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Goddess Girl Gang: Persephone, Pomegranates, and the Autumn Equinox

September 25, 2019February 9, 2020Kitchen Witchin', Punk Rock Plant Stories, Uncategorizedautumn, featured, Persephone, witchcraft

Someone on the internet once said, “If Persephone can be both the goddess of Spring and Queen of the Underworld, then so can you.” If ever there was an affirmation that speaks to my soul, this is it. Thanks, Tumblr! And with the recent turn to autumn and slowing down of life in the garden, I’ve been thinking about how to honor the changing seasons in a way that acknowledges this all-important shift and my goddess girl gang right hand lady, Persephone (also known as Kore). But first, let’s recap the Persephone myth so it’s fresh in your mind.

Persephone’s Story

As it goes, Kore (meaning “maiden”) was minding her own business on a beautiful day out in a meadow when Hades decided to kidnap her so that she could live as his wife and queen in the Underworld as “Persephone.” Rude.

Understandably distraught, Persephone’s mother Demeter wandered the land in search of her daughter. But as Demeter was the goddess of agriculture, the land suffered while her attention was elsewhere. The people in turn began to suffer and starve, so Zeus allowed mother and daughter to reunite. But there’s always a catch, is’t there?

In this case, Persephone was now bound to the Underworld because she had eaten seeds from a pomegranate that Hades gave to her. And once you eat in the Underworld, there you shall stay. However, they brokered a deal wherein Persephone could spend two-thirds of the year with her mother, returning to Hades and the Underworld for the remaining third.

As you can probably guess, this became the explanation for the changing seasons and the slow descent into winter for a portion of the year. But while Persephone is most known for being the Queen of the Underworld, her return to Earth ushers in the new growing season, and she is simultaneously honored as the goddess of spring.

The Persephone/Demeter relationship was a huge deal in Ancient Greece, spawning one of the best-known religious rites of the time, the Eleusinian Mysteries. And while Persephone may have started out as a victim, part of the allure of the story is her decision to take charge and embrace both roles — both goddess of Spring and Queen of the Underworld. It’s an appealing dichotomy, and it feels real.

It’s heartening to see that over the years folks have taken the mythology into their own hands, offering a different twist on the story. Mythology is just that — myth. Oral stories passed down and bastardized like a thousand-year-old game of telephone. So why not change it up?

Pomegranate Symbolism

There’s no denying that pomegranates are stunning to behold. But they also have a rich mythological, religious, and folkloric history across many cultures, which makes the fall season extra meaningful for those us in the Northern hemisphere with witchy inclinations. Each seed is a jewel, bursting with ruby red juice that’s both sweet and tart. Basically, pomegranates are sensual AF.

Pomegranates have been cultivated in the Middle East for thousands of years, and they feature heavily in various dishes and traditions originating from the region. They’re often incorporated into Judaica as decoration, and there’s quite a story in the Talmud where a woman tests her husband by disguising herself as a sex worker, requiring he pay her with a fresh pomegranate. But while I’m most familiar with the myriad ways pomegranates are valued in the Jewish tradition, the fruit’s spiritual and symbolic significance goes back even further.

When it comes to the ancient Greeks, pomegranates were considered to be the fruit of the dead, and it was told that they sprung from the blood of Adonis. Because Persephone at the seeds of a pomegranate in the Underworld, they’re also associated with her and the two are frequently depicted together.

Kitchen Witchin’ for Fall

Two beautiful pomegranate halves before the neighbor’s dog absconded with one

I love this time of year not only for the symbolic significance of the pomegranate, but because they’re also so damn delicious. It’s definitely work to crack one open and remove all those seeds, but it’s worth it. And while I often stash them in a Tupperware and snack on the seeds as an indulgent treat over the course of a few days, I want to try some new recipes this year that are more intentional. Why not try…

Pomegranate Pistachio Chocolate Bark

Zeytoon Parvardeh – Persian Pomegranate, Olive, and Walnut Dip

Pomegranate Chicken

Mustn’t forget about Lilith! My other main squeeze, especially this time of year.
My favorite necklace, the sigil of Lilith with a moonstone.

Hangin’ with Persephone

Keeping pomegranate charms, or asking Persephone if she wants to hang when I’m working in the kitchen or garden, are little things that help me feel more connected to this badass goddess in early May and throughout the fall, in particular. I was never really into deities, but over the last couple years I’ve connected with a few that I now hold near and dear to my heart. They’re like effortlessly cool friends to hang with out in my bunker in the woods. It’s a little goddess girl gang, and all are welcome to join.

All About Mint: From Ancient Greek Lore to Your Summer Garden

August 19, 2019September 10, 2019Grow It, Home, Kitchen Witchin', Punk Rock Plant Stories, Uncategorizedcooking, featured, Greek myth, magic, mint, Minthe, Persephone

I don’t need to convince you that mint is a special plant in cultures all over the world — you’ve likely tried a dozen different dishes from as many cultures which use this powerful garden herb. From Moroccan teas and Indian chutneys and salads, to Southern mint juleps and Cuban mojitos, mint shows up again and again.

But did you know mint was also used in ancient Greek funerary rites along with other fragrant herbs like rosemary and myrtle? It’s still used for similar purposes today it would seem, as the tradition of ritual lament by professional mourners (moirologists) continues in Mani, Greece. As if all that wasn’t enough, our humble garden mint has a saucy origin story involving your girl’s number one right-hand goddess, Persephone.

*Hylas and the Water Nymphs*, Henriette Rae (circa 1909)

According to the myth, Minthe was a Naiad nymph who presided over the River Cocytus in the Underworld. She tried to seduce Hades and/or Hades became smitten with her. Minthe began to think herself superior to Persephone, Queen of the Underworld and wife to Hades. Once Persephone caught wind of the flirtation, either by Minthe’s own tongue or another’s, she turned the nymph into the garden herb we know as mint today.

Mint was also an important hallucinatory ingredient in the ancient Greek drink kykeon, which participants in the Eleusinian Mysteries drank at the height of the experience. I’ll be diving into this trippy ancient ritual in the next post, which you’ll definitely want to check out. But for now, let’s explore how you can care for a small mint plant in the 21st century.

Getting Started with Mint

See if you can spot my little grasshopper friend…

Mint is a really great homegrown herb because there are so many varieties to try, and you can add it to everything from cocktails and fruit salad to marinades and tea. You can sooth an upset stomach with mint, just as you can relieve the acute pain of a bee sting. True story, my babysitter carried me into the house and put toothpaste on a bee sting I got on the back of my thigh after sitting on a bee resting on our tree swing. Nowadays, I welcome the little bees when they come to visit, and mint is one of my go-to herbs for my home container garden.

Be warned, however, that mint will go rogue if you let it! If you don’t have a well-contained and well-tended garden space, I’d urge you to grow your mint in a container. Mint spreads horizontally, and will send out “runners,” which are side shoots or stems that take root as the plant spreads outwards. It’s wild to see the runners start crawling around the sides of your container like alien plant tentacles.

Specialty Mints: Apple and Mojito

The great mojito and apple mint container of 2018

Last year, I fell in love with mojito mint, which is a Cuban variety that’s been bred to smell just like a mojito — lime, sugar, mint, and all! It’s pretty delicious, and it’s a fun Wonka-like addition to a home herbal garden. There are lots of recipes for mojito marinade online, but you could customize your own mix for any grilled meat or fish entree with some citrus, garlic, herbs, and this particular mint.

I also grew apple mint last year, which is a fuzzy mint with soft, felt-like leaves. Apple mint grows quite tall, so your container will have some height once the season gets underway. I wasn’t as keen on putting the apple mint into fresh recipes, but I did use it to make an apple cider vinegar-based facial toner for my acne-prone skin. My partner says it makes my face smell like feet though, so mix at your own risk.

Speciality Mints: Orange and Chocolate

This year, I opted for a lush orange mint plant at the garden center in lieu of others I’ve tried in seasons past. Orange mint is exactly what it sounds like — a lovely mint with a punchy citrus scent. I let it get a little out of control in the pot, so the other day I cut a bunch of the longer stems and stored the trimmed pieces in a Tupperware container. They’re still looking good in the fridge, so the plan is to make an orange mint-infused vinegar.

I’m 90% sure the second mint I’m growing this year is chocolate mint. However, if you have any thoughts to the contrary based on this photo, please let me know! This mint has a gorgeous deep green color and chocolate brown stems, apropos of the name. My neighbor dug up a section from her friend’s garden and gifted it to me, which is what I have in this little pot. It doesn’t look like much, but this particular guy is super potent. A little will stretch far enough for my purposes, and because of how strong it is, I think I’ll dry whatever’s left for tea near the end of the season.

Pollinator-Friendly: Mountain Mint

Chocolate mint’s not the only thing my neighbor dug up and brought back home for us to share. She also gifted me a hunk of grassy dirt with some greenery and dead stalks, which looked vaguely like something I should try to keep alive. It was mountain mint! Mountain mints are native to North America, and the short-toothed or blunt mountain mint that I have is native to Eastern North America. Once the summer really got underway, the mountain mint blossomed. The plant now has silvery white leaves that look almost frosted, which give off a cool fairy vibe along with its tiny lavender flowers. Needless to say, I am into it.

Mountain mints are excellent for attracting pollinators, especially bees. I recently stopped into the NJ-NY Trail Conference office to check out some maps, and it was awesome to find the whole front of the building planted with mountain mint and literally buzzing with pollinator activity. Mountain mint is often featured on lists of best pollinator-friendly plants, and it was awarded Plant of the Year in 2018 by my own former employer! It’s also deer-resistant, which makes it a great choice for suburban gardens.

Dozens of bees buzzing around the mountain mint bushes
outside the NY-NJ Trail Conference Headquarters

How Do You Like to Enjoy Mint?

I’m trying to take advantage of the abundant fresh mint I have at this moment, because really, now’s the time to let it marry with all the heightened flavors of ripe peaches, strawberries, and watermelon. As I mentioned earlier, one way I’m hoping to keep the freshness of summer alive is by making an orange mint-infused vinegar to drizzle on salads.

Even if you prefer to simply let your mint grow for the visual pleasure of it in your garden, try thinking about Minthe and the water nymphs and all the ways that people before you have treasured and made use of this special plant. How do you like to prepare mint? Let me know!

Roses and Hops and Unicorns, Oh My! Midsummer Magic in New York City

July 29, 2019August 21, 2019Home, Kitchen Witchin', Punk Rock Plant Stories, UncategorizedCloisters, Europe, featured, herbalism, history, magic, medicine, medieval, monasteries, museum, New York, unicorns

Potted fruit and herb trees, along with deadly oleander, line a wall of the
Bonnefont Herb Garden at The Met Cloisters (Fort Tryon Park, NYC)

Hey friends, did you know there’s a collection of medieval gardens, courtyards, and unicorn art just north of Washington Heights in Manhattan? Yes, motherfuckin’ unicorns. If Europe’s not in the budget, then The Met Cloisters at Fort Tryon Park is the best alternative for a Saturday staycation.

If you’re a New York resident, you can pay whatever you want for admission instead of the standard $20.00. There are also several different tours, including a daily afternoon Garden Tour, which are all free with admission. Parking is even free!

First Stop – The Judy Black Garden in the Cuxa Cloister

From the main entrance, the first garden you’ll come upon as you wind your way around is the Judy Black Garden in the Cuxa Cloister. The Cuxa Cloister (built with stone from the 12th century Benedictine Abbey of Saint-Michel-de-Cuxa), is reconstructed at about a third of its original size and is filled with reimagined medieval magic.

Though I wandered the gardens earlier in the afternoon, I stuck around for the guided tour to get the real dirt. The Cuxa garden is divided into four quadrants, each with an ornamental crab apple tree planted in the corners. Fun fact: I’m 90% sure our guide said it was Albertus Magnus who recommended planting trees a healthy distance apart, not because it’s good for their growing roots, but because spiders will otherwise weave their webs between trees that are too close, and that is annoying.

In addition to strewing herbs like lavender, you can find plants with historical magical significance, such as lady’s mantle and foxglove. Lady’s mantle leaves are covered in fine hairs, which causes water to bead on the surface. Apparently this was enough for certain medieval folks to deduce that lady’s mantle was an alchemical plant, and therefore magical. Similarly, the doctrine of signatures dictated that plants resembling certain body parts should be used to treat said body part, a not-so-scientific, but also kind of logical approach to healthcare.

Roses (and fuzzy bees) in the Cuxa Cloister garden

Once we reached the roses, our guide explained that their popularity waned for a time because the Catholic Church didn’t approve of them, associating this particular flower with the excesses of the Roman Empire. However, the rose came back into vogue as Crusaders traveled East and returned to Europe, bringing with them a renewed appreciation for the plant which we haven’t shaken since. Because roses set fruit in the fall, rose hips were, and still are, also used medicinally.

Next Up, the Saint-Guilhem Cloister

This interior cloister feels the most like a Game of Thrones set piece to me, though it’s the smallest with only sparse greenery, mostly potted palms. It’s bright and ascetic, and I can just imagine the Sand Snakes (the bad bitches from the books, not the show) plotting some revenge in this mini Dornish courtyard.

According to the info placard, the French monastery from which this cloister came was called Saint-Guilhem-le-Desert, founded in 804 AD by a member of Charlemagne’s court amidst a landscape of waterfalls and gorges. The monastery was a popular pilgrimage site on the road to further religious destinations in northern Spain, and the columns surrounding the space feature designs of ancient Roman leaf types and vining plants, including hops.

The Magical Bonnefont Herb Garden and Cloister

Cascading hop vines in my favorite of the Cloisters gardens

My absolute favorite is the Bonnefont Herb Garden and Cloister, which is located next to the small cafe and more wild-planted Trie Garden. After you grab lunch and a drink (maybe a cold beer or hot tea depending on the time of year), you’ll move to the largest garden featuring raised beds dedicated to different medieval purposes, such as magic, medicine, love and fertility, and arts and crafts.

I’m bummed the apothecary display wasn’t open during this visit, but it’s definitely worth asking about! A couple years ago I was able to get a list of all of the plants in the Bonnefont garden for the 2017 seasons, which is still a great personal reference sheet to have. See the gallery below for a photo of part of the apothecary display.

Raised beds representing plants used for different medieval purposes,
such as magic, medicine, love/fertility, or in crafts

Lastly, hops are one of my favorite plants, and not just because they’re a key ingredient in beer (also a magical substance). Hop buds are beautiful, and cascading walls of hop vines and tendrils make me so happy. Hops feature heavily in the Cloister gardens, with designs carved into columns, canopies growing in the Bonnefont garden, and 16th century instructional texts about growing hops in very old English on display inside the museum.

Unicorns, Fuck Yeah!

Moving back inside the museum, what would a trip to the Cloisters be without stopping to visit the famed unicorn tapestries? I may have to do a separate post to dive deeper into the badass botanical/Biblical symbolism and artistry in these tapestries. But for now, here are some highlights I gleaned from our tour guide:

According to myth, a unicorn’s horn could purify a water source if/when the Devil poisons the water overnight in the form of a serpent.
People at the time thought they were purchasing unicorn horn for healing, but really they were getting pieces of narwhal tusk.
Botanists from the New York Botanical Garden (NYBG) were able to identify 101 unique plants in the tapestries, and were able to name 84 of these plants.
There’s a hell of a lot of Christ/crown of thorns and Virgin Mary plant imagery, including Irises a.k.a. Sword lilies a.k.a. Sorrows of the Virgin (dope).
The patron who commissioned the seven tapestries (initialed A.E.) has never been identified and remains a mystery for historians.

‘The Unicorn in Captivity’ tapestry at The Cloisters [Public domain]

Until Next Time…

Whether you’re a local or visitor to New York, The Met Cloisters is an easy-to-get-to destination for a faux European afternoon of garden life and people watching. One of the best pieces I overheard was a little boy explaining all the plants to family, including the “Frankenstein” plant (a.k.a. frankincense). I’ll certainly be back in the Fall with a book or magazine, and I hope you can take the time for yourself too. You deserve it.

All photos by Paige Trubatch

Growing Joy and Solidarity in the Garden: 5 Reasons You’ll Adore the ‘Feminist Weed Farmer’

May 24, 2019April 18, 2020DIY, Grow It, Home, Punk Rock Plant Stories, Resources and Reviewsfeatured

*Feminist Weed Farmer: Growing Mindful Medicine in Your Own Backyard*
by Madrone Stewart, Microcosm Publishing (2018)

“If you are unable to find joy in loving your plants, smoking their flowers, or sharing your bounty, you should probably stop growing. However, I do encourage you to at least give it a try.” – Madrone Stewart

Maybe you want to start growing your own cannabis and are unsure of where to start, or you’re drawn in by the brightly colored cover and promise of subversive gardening insights (*raises hand*). However you find it, Madrone Stewart’s Feminist Weed Farmer: Growing Mindful Medicine in Your Own Backyard (part of the DIY series by Microcosm Publishing) is a substantial and delightful book to have in your arsenal as a punk rock gardener. Here are five reasons why you should pick up a copy.

1. Stewart’s Voice and Point of View as a Grower

Stewart’s voice is like that of a friend sharing her unique approach to growing cannabis, because she wants you to be successful and have a good time doing it. That’s pretty much exactly how this book came to exist. She wrote a cultivation guide for friends who took over her own farm, Purple Kite Farm, and it evolved into the guidebook you see here.

She says, “I want this book to serve as both a guide for you and a cultural artifact for the community of people who taught me how to grow. This is what we did in those mountains.” Her connection to community is palpable, and I fucking love it. She also says, “I want weed, kale, tomatoes, sunflowers, and echinacea cultivated in every backyard, terrace, and rooftop. I would love for the corporate controlled cannabis farms to fail, and I would love to see women and gender-queer cultivators put them out of business.” Me too, girl.

Throughout this short book (it’s only 125 pages), Stewart weaves her “biased beliefs” about responsible gardening to minimize environmental impacts and the potential for cannabis cultivation to be a powerful feminist experience. She recalls fond memories of Humboldt County “trim scenes,” where mostly women worked together to trim the harvested flowers. But she also recalls how they all understood the risks involved in working on those mountains as a woman, and how sexual harassment and assault are common on cannabis farms. She says, “As you pull in your harvest, connect with the women who have done this work before you; these are your ancestors, and we want to support you.”

2. Calls Out the Dominant Cannabis Industry as Very White, and Very Male-Centric

It shouldn’t shock anyone, now that weed has become accepted and decriminalized to varying degrees, that straight white dudes benefit the most from the newfound boom in economic opportunity. Stewart calls out how deeply unfair this is, given our country’s history of criminalizing black and brown communities, and non-white mothers in particular, via the War on Drugs.

Some cities, likes San Francisco and Oakland, are actively working toward some version of racial equity in the industry. This is good! However, the cultural image of the white Weed Mom is also taking root, in contrast to those women who have been criminally and socially penalized for their cannabis use. This isn’t discussed in Feminist Weed Farmer, but I encourage you to do your own reading on the topic.

Bitch Media swag and *Feminist Weed Farmer* give me life on a Fridday morning.

3. Honest Recommendations and Advice

Stewart shares anecdotal advice and product recommendations throughout the book based on her own experiences of fucking up, and of trying to work smarter, not harder. These recommendations feel honest, and her candid, conversational tone about the mistakes she’s made, and what’s she’s adopted as best practices over time is refreshing. Stewart makes clear from the get-go that Feminist Weed Farmer is a guidebook for beginners, and that the simple instructions are intended to get you through your first couple seasons as a grower. She also includes visuals, such as hand-drawn diagrams of set-ups you may wish to use. These are helpful in picturing the more technical bits of instruction.

4. A Back-to-Basics Refresher on Caring for Your Plant Babes

The book is broken up into five parts. They are: The Plant Life Cycle, Creating a Good Growing Environment, Protecting Your Plants, Harvesting Your Medicine, and Hash Making. As you become a more skilled and experimental home gardener, you may need an occasional reminder of why you perform tasks a certain way. It’s sometimes easy to rush through your watering or care routine between working hours and other obligations. Stewart says, “It takes compassion to tend to each plant according to their unique needs in order for them to flourish.” This little book reminds us to slow down and really pay attention to what our plant babes are telling us.

5. Finding Joy in the Garden

I won’t give away all of Stewart’s twenty ideas to enhance your cannabis growing experience, which are listed on the very last page opposite her photo. But I will tell you that her recommendations include ways to incorporate more beauty and pleasure in your garden. Through a combination of focused task management, bursts of energetic release, and meditation on why you’ve undertaken this project, you’ll find growing your own cannabis to be an enriching new part of your life.

I appreciate that Stewart states in her conclusion, “This book was not written for your academic exploration of cannabis cultivation.” But I do think there is still great wisdom here for home gardeners growing veggies, herbs, and flowers with community and justice in mind.

I adore this little book, and I know I’ll keep it close for a long time. And like Stewart, I wish for you to find peace and un-self conscious joy in tending to your garden — one Spotify playlist or homegrown plant medicine gift at a time.